


Lion and Cub

by depressotron5000



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Age Play, M/M, absolute filth, england nt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 01:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19140535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depressotron5000/pseuds/depressotron5000
Summary: Back in Leicester, Ben and James are the same age. Here at St. George's Park, James has to learn to respect his elders.





	Lion and Cub

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stoneswalker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stoneswalker/gifts).



It starts during the scrimmage, Lions versus Young Lions; Demarai Gray calls Maguire "old man" after winning a challenge and it's off to the races from there. Pickford saves a shot by Tammy Abraham and clucks his tongue. "You'll have to do a little better than that, junior!" Jadon Sancho dribbles past Mason Mount and gets a "Careful, grandad, you'll break a hip!" for his trouble.

James miscues a shot that's neatly cleared by Ben. Ben grins wolfishly and says "sorry, little fella," running past Madders to pinch his cheek on his way back up the pitch. He knows it's unreasonable, it's just bants, but James is annoyed. They're literally the same age. James is even a month older than Ben, but here he is scuffling on the U21 side while Ben plays for Nations League glory with the senior squad. Look, he knows his place on the squad, he knows that he has an important leadership role and Aidy needs him much more than Gareth does right now, but that doesn't mean that the baby talk, even in jest, from Ben is any less galling.

The irritation sticks with James for the rest of the match, throwing him off his game, and it follows him into the dressing room. Ben is bouncing and smiley and so are the rest of the lads, and James tries to join in, but it's hard for him to shake the sour feeling of being dismissed as just a kid that's been lurking since he was named to the U21s.

At least he gets some alone time with Ben tonight, James thinks. Unlike the Young Lions, the senior squad gets single rooms at St. George's. He plans to take full advantage of that, even if the walls are still notoriously thin. The thought cheers him up during dinner and by the time birthday cake is served for Stones and Walker and Foden (what's with all the Geminis, James wonders), he's laughing and joking along with everyone else. He's making a crack to Hamza that Walker's cake should've been covered in powdered sugar when he sees Ben leave from the corner of his eye and James can barely squeak out a good night before he's on Ben's heels, following him out the door.

They catch the same elevator and once the doors shut, James rests his chin on Ben's shoulder, burying his face in the collar of his black warmup sweatshirt and inhaling the scent of detergent and Ben's shower gel. "Been looking forward to this all day, babe."

"Mmmm," Ben agrees, and plants a soft kiss on James's temple.

Back at Ben's room, they both toe off their trainers and flop onto the bed. Ben pulls off his sweatshirt and slides under the covers, and James rolls onto his side to face him. Ben looks serene and beautiful, his hair un-gelled with stray locks falling over his forehead and into his eyes. James props himself up to lean in for a kiss, but Ben turns away at the last second so all he gets is cheek.

"Hey," James huffs. "Thought you'd been looking forward to getting a little something."

Ben hums happily. "Call me Daddy, then."

James laughs. "Like hell I will. C'mere," he says, reaching over to Ben, who swats his hand away. "What was that for?"

"You didn't call me Daddy."

"You can't be - come on, Chills!" James is spluttering.

"You're a Young Lion. Respect your elders," Ben says lightly.

"What the fuck? Chills. Ben. Need I remind you that I'm actually older than you?"

"Mmmm. Not here you're not. Now be a good boy, Madders, or you can go back to your room. I'm sure Reiss would love to have someone to play FIFA with."

"No. Come on," James coos as he leans in toward Ben.

Ben rolls over in bed, wraps himself in the duvet, and exhales contentedly. "'Night, Madders. See you in the morning."

James's jaw drops, and he needs a moment before gathering himself. He leans in toward the Ben-shaped lump in the bed and, affecting a pornstar voice, breathes "Yes, daddy, do me, do me now!"

Ben flips over suddenly, his face dark, his arm snaking out of the covers to grab James by the shock of sandy hair at the very top of his head. His teeth are gritted together. "Call me Daddy, and don't be fucking silly about it, or go the fuck back to your room."

James's pupils are blown. The yank on his hair is going straight to his dick, never mind the dead serious tone from his usually calm, easygoing Ben. He licks his lips. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He opens his mouth. "D...Daddy." The word sticks in his throat and somehow also makes him weak in the knees. "Daddy," he repeats, more assertively this time.

Ben lets go of James's hair. "Daddy, what?"

“Daddy, please...I want…”

“What do you want, baby? We don’t have all night.”

“Can I kiss you?” James gulps. “Daddy?”

Ben sits up and presses his lips to James’s, just a few dry pecks at first but then deepening, pressing his tongue forward to open James’s mouth, probing and exploring. James kisses back so hard, tasting the sugary cake frosting still on Ben’s tongue, and raises one hand to Ben’s stubbly jawline and the other to the short hairs at the nape of his neck. They sit there on the bed, making out for what feels like hours. Ben’s hands run up his back, underneath his jacket and t-shirt, and they break apart just long enough for Ben to pull them both off James in one swift motion.

Their mouths meet again, and then Ben moves his mouth over James’s jaw, nipping at the skin under the close-cropped beard, smoothing his tongue down the length of James’s neck then sucking just hard enough to not leave bruises on his way back up. James can’t think of the last time he’s been so turned on.

Ben takes his own t-shirt off, now. “Baby,” he almost whines, “baby, suck my cock, god…”

James tears down the covers then pulls Ben’s trackies and boxers to his knees in one swift motion. Ben’s cock springs free, bobbing obscenely, and James wastes no time in lowering his mouth to cover the head, licking into the slit, swirling precome around with his tongue. He knows he gives great head and he wants Ben to have the blowjob of a lifetime. His fist curls around the base of Ben’s cock, nestled in the short dark curls there. His pink lips slide further down Ben’s shaft as he works up a rhythm, matching the movements of his hand and mouth, tongue swirling as he goes.

Ben is babbling, “Madders...baby...fuck...your mouth...baby...god…” James knows he must be close, so he reaches his free hand to the spot just behind Ben’s balls and kneads, and Ben is coming, coming so hard, filling James’s mouth so quickly that he can hardly swallow in time, his come is running down his throat and dripping out the corner of his swollen lips.

They’ve barely caught their breath when James, wiping his mouth with his thumb, raises himself up to Ben’s eye level. “Time to return the favor, Daddy,” he breaths.

Ben’s voice catches. “You’ve been so, so good, baby. What can I do? You want my tongue?” James nods, can’t stop nodding. “I need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me.”

“Please, please put your tongue inside me,” James whines. He’s already pulling off his joggers and underwear, laying back and bending his legs at the knees. He feels so horny and so slutty like this, completely exposed.

Ben smiles hungrily. “I can definitely do that.” He kisses James’s lips, his throat, his collarbones, goes further and further down, ghosts a kiss over the head of James’s dick before dipping down to lap at his hole. James revels in the feeling, so satisfying and frustrating at the same time, it’s wet and hot and perfect and yet not quite enough to get him there. Ben pokes his tongue deeper, reaches up to run the heel of his hand up the length of James’s cock, and pulls away with a filthy sucking sound.

He looks up at James with flashing eyes. “Say it. Say it if you want me to make you come.”

“Daddy, fuck, make me come.” James is beyond all embarrassment, beyond all self-consciousness, beyond anything but Ben hovering over his arsehole, and then Ben’s hand is stroking his cock and his tongue is deep inside him and the heat is building and building until he’s whiting out, coming in long streaks up his chest and dripping over Ben’s fist, contracting under Ben’s gentle but unrelenting mouth. Ben strokes him through his orgasm, staying connected to him until he comes back down to earth.

“Fuck, we’re a mess,” are the first words James can rasp out.

Ben stands up. “I’ll be right back, baby,” he says as he makes his way to the bathroom. James hears him rinse with mouthwash then run the tap for a minute, and then he’s back and so, so gently wiping down James with a warm washcloth.

“You’re so good to me,” says James.

“It’s the least I can do, literally the least,” replies Ben. “You were so good. I know you hated being teased, but I thought it was so hot and you were such a good sport.” He lays down next to James and kisses him gently.

“Promise this doesn’t leave St. George’s,” James says as he breaks away from the kiss a few moments later. “Once we get home, I’m still older than you by an entire month.”

Ben smiles and buries his face in James’s chest. “Promise, baby.”


End file.
